


Got a Bow On My Panties Because My Ass is  a Present

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Come Marking, Lace Panties, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: Lu Han, he's never one to disappoint.





	Got a Bow On My Panties Because My Ass is  a Present

**Author's Note:**

> march 26, 2015 fic

He'd gotten email from a steakhouse this morning, phone beeping with the notification. Good for 50% off the total bill or one free steak (whichever was cheaper), offer valid until next month. And another from his alma mater. One from his gym, his dentist, too.

They'd also thrown a potluck at work in his honor. Gotten him an ice cream cake, hung up rainbow streamers, balloons, tissues paper flowers—Kyungsoo was violently allergic to pollen—sung Happy Birthday to him pitchily and enthusiastically off-key, Chanyeol's arm around his shoulders, Jongdae with a camera shoved in his face to record the whole thing. Giftcards to Olive Garden, Red Lobster, a local sex shop.

It's been pretty great, as far as weekday birthdays are concerned, Minseok reflects, pausing in the doorway to toe off his shoes, unbutton his cuffs, unknot his tie.

Pretty, almost wonderful.

But this, coming home, socked feet static-clinging to their shag carpet, it's the best part. This, being wholly himself, in wholly his space. Indulging finally in the anticipation that's been pooling in his gut since he'd first blinked his eyes open, been cajoled awake by the most persistent, most beautiful, beautiful lips.

Minseok, he'd gotten a kiss from Lu Han first thing in the morning, minty and too wet and too hot considering they both had work. A text message at lunch, promising the absolute _best_ present. And another just an hour before, a winky face emoji, an attached picture of a white lace waistband, a peek of the flushed, smooth skin at Lu Han's hip. _Ready for you_ , he'd sent just three minutes later. _Don't keep me waiting_.

Lu Han, he's never one to disappoint.

 

Lu Han is waiting for him when he walks to their bedroom, and Minseok groans at the sight. He's face down, ass up, naked save for a pair of black lace panties, a lace bow draped over the swell of his ass.

"Fuck," he breathes. " _Fuck_ , Lu."

 _Staring_ , unable to help it. And it's an indulgence, a negotiation. Lu Han, he doesn't usually like to be like this. Only wears lace, pink, makes himself beautiful for Minseok's benefit.

This is for Minseok's benefit. For his birthday. And warmth and love mix with the sharp, sudden spike of arousal, intensifying it. Lu Han has too much false bravado, calculated shamelessness when it comes to these things. It's easy to forget sometimes that maybe he doesn't—

And fuck how long has Lu Han, how long has he been waiting like this just for—

"Gonna peel them off and fuck me?" Lu Han breathes back, head turning to the side, red lips dragging against the muted green of their pillowcase, and Minseok bites back another groan. "I've been waiting. You've kept me waiting."

Minseok falls forward a little too eagerly, a little too quickly, a little too clumsily, the material of his shirt, his pants scraping against Lu Han's warm, perfect skin. Minseok sucks a kiss on the nape of Lu Han's delicate neck, provoking a low, filthy moan, and the ridges of Minseok's palms catch on the soft material of those awful, awful panties. "Fuck your ass is so perfect," he breathes, squeezing on the firm flesh as he bites down. Lu Han shudders. "Small and tight, so perfect for my hands. Perfect around my cock."

And Lu Han grinds back enticingly with a moan that is _all_ for show. All low and raspy. Perfect, perfect for show. Minseok rewards him with an even harder squeeze, hands kneading, parting him, and Lu Han's bent knees slide helplessly against their sheets as he groans, shivers.

"So peel them off and fuck me," he urges, reminds.

But Minseok ignores him, slides his hands to Lu Han's front now, palming at the heat of his erection through black lace. Lu Han's hard, solid and pulsing against Minseok's stroking fingers, moaning even louder now. Less for show. He's writhing down into Minseok's touch. "Want to see your cock, too," Minseok groans. "Want to see the strain."

"Just—just for you, birthday boy," Lu Han manages, and he's turning in his arms, falling open just for him, too. He tilts his hips up, and Minseok falls back to admire him fully. Beautiful, perfect, all flushed skin, red lips, disheveled grace, long lean lines. His cock peeks out from beneath the constricting fabric, flushed, too, beautiful, too.

Minseok just _stares_ for a long, long beat. A gift, Lu Han is a fucking gift just begging to be unwrapped.

"Fuck," Minseok repeats, and he spares a stroke to his own cock, relieving some of the pressure. " _Fuck_ , Lu."

"The first pair, they were white," Lu Han breathes, dragging nimble fingers down his skin, teasing at his navel. Minseok's throat, it's dry. "Wanted to wait for you, but then I thought about you looking at me just like that. Thought about you touching yourself for me, calling me your 'filthy angel,' eating me out and sucking me off through the fabric then fucking me like I'm the present you've always wanted. Thought about fucking you, too, fucking you with these on, the material scraping against your skin." He's teasing the elastic band now, tensing and releasing, snapping it against his skin. Minseok's touching himself more fully now, dragging the heel of his palm lengthwise as Lu Han continues to speak. "And I couldn't _help_ myself. I jerked off through them. Got come all over them." Lu Han's free hand it reaches out for him, beckons him forward. "I filmed it for you later, though," he laughs, strained, shy. His cheek is hot against Minseok's palm, body nuzzling into the caress. Lu Han, he's flushed with arousal, Minseok knows, but also embarassment, vulnerability, desperation. And he's so beautiful. His to claim. His present.

Minseok kisses him, dirty from the start, communicating with his lips, his teeth, his tongue just how much this all means to him. Lu Han's presence, his love, his body, this—this _gift_.

He gets lost in it, the way Lu Han throws his whole body into the kiss, moaning into his mouth in encouragement, thighs coming around Minseok's waist, grinding upwards insistently. Lu Han's nimble fingers drags over Minseok's front, making quick work of his tie, his shirt buttons, dragging teasingly across his pebbled nipples. Alternately wrapping around his waist to urge him down harder.

And Minseok indulges for far, far too long, doesn't pull away until a long, long while later, breathing hard and fast, trying to recover.

"Yeah?" Minseok presses, breathlessly, finally, dropping another kiss to his side of Lu Han's mouth, gliding his fingers down to cup Lu Han's hip, his grip solid, tight. "Touched yourself thinking of me?"

"Yeah," Lu Han confesses into the column of Minseok's throat, arching into his touch. "Yeah, thinking about you, about how much I love you and your perfect cock."

Minseok moans, and Lu Han smiles against his adam's apple. More confident now. Feeding off the validation of Minseok's appreciation.

"The way you can pin me down. How fucking _perfect_ it feels every time you fuck me open. Leave me aching." Minseok shudders, and Lu Han presses a smirk to his neck. "How do you want me, birthday boy?"

"Turn over."

It's Lu Han's turn to shudder, complying so _easily_.

"I'm ready," he says, voice slightly muffled, lips dragging. Minseok wishes he could kiss him again, but the angle is wrong. And there are more pressing concerns. Peeling those panties off, fucking Lu Han open with his fingers, his cock. "I've _been_ ready."

And Lu Han, he really _is_ the ideal present. The most beautiful perfect, perfect gift.

Minseok spares one last, long, lingering look at Lu Han like that—naked and flushed, the smoothest, most beautiful skin, encased in black lace—before reaching forward to peel that lace fabric down, tug at his own clothing.

"Come on," Lu Han urges, wriggling back in invitation. "Come on and fuck me like I'm the present you've always wanted."

"You are," Minseok mouths against Lu Han's shoulder blade, spearing with his slickened fingers, confirming that fuck, he had—Lu Han really fucking had. "You _are_."

"Then _claim_ me," he coaches.

And Minseok does. He laces their fingers together, draped over Lu Han's warm, pliant body, squeezing down hard to anchor himself as he slides inside.

Lu Han clenches tight, purposeful, and the heat and friction has Minseok biting back a gasp, dropping a kiss to the nape of Lu Han's glistening neck.

"Fast," Lu Han urges, demands, even though it's Minseok's birthday, supposed to be how Minseok wants. But Minseok listens anywa. Rocks into him harder. Faster, too. He focuses on getting the angle, the thrust right, grinding hard, cock catching on the rim of Lu Han's loosened entrance with every retreat.

Dual, foggy pleasure. Dual, foggy moans.

And _fuck_ , Minseok blinks down to where he's buried to the hilt, where Lu Han is panting, straining, trembling. And it's really hard to imagine a better present. Really hard to imagine anything better than _this_.

Lu Han melts forward after a while, muffling his sounds into the pillow, and Minseok has to move his hands, tangle them in Lu Han's hair, tugging him back. He gets an arm around Lu Han's torso afterwards, pulls until they're both kneeling. Lu Han grinds back forcefully, writhing and moaning with abandon. "So good. This is for you, but—fuck—it's so good for me, too."

And it's better like this, the angle makes it tighter, has Lu Han sobbing after every thrust, but Lu Han needs to see Minseok's face to come, Minseok knows. And Minseok is overcome with another potent burst of affection. It's crippling and startling and he drops a kiss to his spine, whisper soft, as Lu Han whimpers for him to continue please please his cock feels so fucking good.

"Turn over," he's saying again. "Want to see your face."

It's a lot clumsier now, though no less eager. Like this, Minseok can taste every moan, feel every shudder, pull back enough to catch his eyes as Lu Han steadily falls apart.

And Lu Han, his knuckles white, fisted in the sheets, his hair dark with sweat, his lips open and panting, his eyes dark and dazed, his muscles straining as he writhes back, always, always fucking eager for more. He's so—

"Perfect," Minseok rasps. "Perfect, perfect, perfect."

"You," Lu Han counters, husky and broken. Minseok presses that much harder, hips snapping against Lu Han's ass, and Lu Han fucking trembles, lets out an even more broken sob."You, Minseok."

"I love you," Minseok pants.

"Too," Lu Han hiccups, then, "Fuck me harder."

Minseok does, relishes in the way that Lu Han's entire body trembles with it, his eyelashes fluttering prettily as he takes and takes and takes.

"Touch yourself," Minseok coaxes, catching his eyes. "Touch yourself because of what I'm doing to you."

Lu Han does, tugs hard, still fucks back. And fast, so fast, all too soon, his voice is cresting, eyebrows crinkling, his body peaking, bowing sharply, he's collapsing back as he clenches so so so so so tight. Beautiful, so beautiful, the most beautiful like this, the perfect, perfect present.

His hips are still pressed upwards, raised, open, speckled with his own come, and Minseok rocks into him even faster, seeking out the hot hot pleasure that Lu Han's body so readily offers.

He's almost almost—

"Gonna come," he rasps, and Lu Han's eyes flutter open, dazed and heavy and oversized and beautiful on his.

"Oh me," he urges. "On my stomach. On my skin. Mark me the _fuck_ up."

Minseok snaps off his condom with a moan, kneels over him as he strokes fast and needy, and Lu Han's heavy fingers skate up his chest, cradle his face. "Please," he's saying, knowing Minseok needs that, too. It's soft, but Minseok can still make it out even past the blood roaring in his ears, the slick sloppy sounds of his own touches. Lu Han's wide, wide eyes, heavy, heavy lashes blink up at him in encouragement, adoration, even with as fucked out as he is. "Please, please, _please_ , Minseok."

Everything reaches a fever pitch.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Minseok stutters out, painting across Lu Han's navel. Marring the most beautiful thing, claiming it as he goes boneless in the warm cradle of Lu Han's pliant body.

Lu Han, his beautiful, beautiful present, his fucking _gift_. His eyes glazed, but still warm, his body flushed and lazy and heavy and sweaty and solid against his own.

"Happy birthday," he presses with a smile, right onto Minseok's chest.

**Author's Note:**

> the very last xiuhan of the batch


End file.
